


Conflict

by kittyandco (yourKitty)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, star wars attack of the clones, star wars episode ii - Fandom
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Eventual Romance, F/M, Light Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, OC X CANON, Other, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Romance, Self Ship, Self-Insert, Slow Romance, self shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourKitty/pseuds/kittyandco
Summary: Kitty & Anakin share a close moment on Naboo. They question their feelings for each other, and exactly how deep they go. Yeah I literally just rewrote one of my favorite scenes from Episode II. It’s Self Care.Original post date: 07/23/2020
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Original Character(s), Anakin Skywalker/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Conflict

The sun swelled just upon the horizon. Gentle winds eased the heat into bearability; made it feel so real. Not a dream. Not a hypothetical from her foolish and sparse optimism.

He went down without a fight. All her strength went to flipping him over, limp and heavy as he was, a grunt drowning out the incessant, genuine laughter from underneath her for just that one second. She decided to be gentle with him, for an itching reason that she couldn’t see. Quivering, twitching lips let on too much, and she bit back a smile. She’d never seen anyone so happy in such a short but long and droning life. Never. Her eyes weren’t blind to much, but certainly to a witless heart.

How did it feel so blissful?

The tall and formidable Jedi apprentice without his usual dauntless defense, there in the plush grass underneath this small dame who thought herself his combative equal. Her temporary domination made him smile, regardless of her desired outcome. He didn’t quite understand her indignance with him and his admiration for her; it wouldn’t ever stop him, and truthfully emboldened his doting ways. His gaze, as blue as the clear sky above, outlined her form as it was the only thing eclipsing the pale sun, yet her face had never seemed brighter. Glistening cheeks from nature’s warmth softened the half-glare she imposed on him. He looked upon all he could in the midst of this position, his eyes periodically falling on the biceps keeping him pinned.

In private he called her something to the effect of his princess, or some feminine title of high honor, but truthfully she had the disposition of a warrior. Oh, he loved that. Intimidation had nothing to do with it. He could still love her, and he _did_. He would protect her regardless, and it mattered not whether she protected herself, whether she denied him that. He admired her vigor, her beauty, her unintentional humor, her point of view. No one had ever been like her, and he would risk his rank to have her. Secret admiration, secret possession. What’s forbidden, _gone_ , buried within the codes he was brought up on. He had already begun to question the Jedi’s teachings. 

But in separate privacy, the worries of his perception had impaled her trackless mind every now and then. He could never love her the way she was - not strong, not swift, not clever. No upstanding man, and surely he was, wanted someone like that. She was no princess, she was no empress, no queen, no senator (surely not one worthy of his protection). She was nothing. A dwelling rat in Jakku’s jaws.

She wouldn’t let a measly Jedi make her question anything, much less herself. This was a waste of time.

“Why are you even smiling? I got you.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a challenge.” His feigned innocence and unfettered amusement burned her outrage. Even more so as his one finger slipped a stray curl behind her ear, possibly warm from this aching internal heat, as the rest of them cascaded down, brushing at the remaining strands available to him. Anakin was still learning to maneuver their interactions. He clung to the hope that soon she’d understand that he was not her enemy.

“I got you. I pinned you. You let your guard down.” Kitty answered with typical aggressive ignorance and a defensive sneer, although her shuddering body betrayed her. She dug her knees firm into the dirt, sitting rigid above him. No matter the supposed intimidation she imposed, he’d never lose the spark in his eyes. Puffing, she veered forward with slight reserve.

“Well. I don’t mind it.” He said it as if he could stay there until the moon came, and as if she had nothing to throw contempt at. His nerve may have even permitted him to touch her, if it was imperious enough, and his hand moved on its own, once again to ensure her existence, or prolong it in front of him. This felt dreamlike to him as well; his nights often defined by suffering and helplessness, this was a welcomed piece of the imagination. And her supple cheek against his curious fingertips realized the dream. He expected her skin to feel worn and dry. It was, perhaps, dewy from the timid humidity, but no less precious-feeling. For once, she didn’t jerk away or spit at him, she embraced his touch like never before, like his hopes had held onto. How bad she wanted to strike him, though.

No Jedi had yet to capture her trust. Not even the chivalrous padawan in all his efforts and displays. The time hadn’t come, and she couldn’t promise when it would. There’s an internal fortress that even the most profound of feelings could break down. The feelings had to come quickly and uncontrollably, like a battalion fighting for fate. Until then, she’d only know selfish indignation and naivety.

But _oh_ , she felt herself melting. It wasn’t Naboo’s lively sun.

A covert hiss cued her departure. Kitty rolled onto the grass, her back taut as she sat up, her focus forward into the flower-sick distance. Anakin sat up afterward, feeling he had lost something. His eyes no longer looked gentle, but insatiable and contemptuous, the gaze cast down with loose lips. He sensed her apprehension, but even more he sensed her blooming vulnerability. But his senses weren’t enough, and they scared her - he couldn’t express that he had felt her shaken.

He needed her love, true and faithful, full and eternal. Maybe he would ask the stars.


End file.
